Miss O'Elle

I know what you dealt. I know the cards you played and what you played them against. I know your fear and anger and agitation as life keeps stopping you. I know why your grades started slipping, your voice started shrinking, your hope started stopping. But you. Small, tiny, insignificant you: You don’t come to mind very often. 

I want you to know that the loneliness you felt was real. You were alone. Not a soul stuck around, just as you knew, and no one was actually equipped to help you through your pain. That’s real. You just had way too much, even for you, and that’s okay. You did it alone. But even though the world was screaming that you’re never truly alone, you were, and it’s okay. It ends up okay, and you’re better for it. 

I want you to know that trusting people, letting people see the imperfect sides of you, is hard. But it’s not what drove them away. You are neither a dramatic basket case nor a perfect teacher’s pet. Know that. Because the people who get to know you, who you begin to really trust again, will see past the extremes and to you, and they’ll want to walk alongside you while you sort through your history. They will be there because they will love you - your new family is coming. And when they arrive, you will have nothing to fear, because they will be openly messed up from the start so you can gradually break free. 

I want you to know that you will be safe. So safe. That even though you are alone, and you are uncertain, you will be safe. You will prepare what you can for the safety - you will become amazing at householding, at loving others, at managing yourself, so when the time comes for you to break down, you will be able to safely do so. 

Me, age 15 - I love you. I know it’s hard. I know you feel invalidated. I know now, that we’ve touched base, I have to let you go. I have to move on and life for me. To give myself a shot at a better life and world. But you? You happened. And you are loved through it. And you will be safe again, I promise.